


A Spin On A Timeless Tale

by MoonyButter



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: At least by normal standards, Belle does not find the castle, F/M, He isn't called it fully until later on, LeFous name is Samuel, M/M, Rarest Rare Pair, Slow Burn, THIS IS AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE, Tags will update with chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2018-10-26 23:45:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10797264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonyButter/pseuds/MoonyButter
Summary: You’ve surely heard this tale many a time, a young woman goes and takes place of her father as a prisoner to a transformed prince; time passes and they fall in love. This tale is as older than you or I, however, people take it and twist it and shape it into a story that they themselves can be proud of. I am no different, and I hope that you can enjoy it as you have others, our story begins a year before most, upon a cloudy day in a small village...Please leave comments or reviews! I really want this story to be good





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this AU for a while now, its simply what would happen had LeFou found the castle in a similar matter to Belle and had been the one to break the spell. The Year difference is to give actual time to give a little more leeway. I'm posting the first chapter in hopes that people will enjoy it and want more, I have written more but it is still unfinished.

Gaston had strode into the village square as if he owned it, smiling and waving to the people he past before pulling his furs tighter to his body. There had been a snowstorm a few nights back and most the area was still covered in the white powder, sometimes being picked up by the howling or screeching winds. Normally, he’d be in his cottage, bundled and watching the fire roar in front of him or cleaning his hunting gear for the closest season; however, this wasn’t normal conditions, he had to go out himself to gather herbs and meats for the week. LeFou, his childhood friend, had done this task for as long as Gaston could remember, even doing the cooking once in awhile if the large man didn’t feel like it. The stout man had fallen sick however, had left during the storm because his damned chickens weren’t inside when he checked on them, LeFou loved his livestock as if it was his own children and Gaston never understood why. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by a tug on his sleeve, Sophie, one of the lonely maidens in the village had smiled up at him shyly, her red hair tied in braids that seemed to dance along her shoulders. Gaston smiled at her and they had a small conversation, it seemed that Sophie had baked too much for her family and decided that it would be a perfect gift. The town hero had taken the loaf with a charming bow and kissed her hand, chuckling to himself as she turned red and rushed to where her friends had been watching them, he shook his head. Silly girls. Gaston moved along his merry way, looking almost godlike with his large game furs and raccoon hat, approaching the edge of town when he saw her.

Belle. 

Belle had been the object of his affections for months now, the young woman and her father had moved into the village from Paris itself; and it showed immensely. Her skin was pale, and her hair looked silky, softer than his own perhaps, she was truly a diamond among rocks and fools gold. Alas… She had no interest in him, surprisingly. He puffed up his chest, held his items under his arm and began approaching her, only to be stopped by a low moan and cough.

Gaston was going to ignore it, many were still sick from the weather, most children and the homeless that were forced to endure it; however he had a feeling, and glanced to the side, grimacing at the old hag that he’d saw. She wore a single cloak, that had holes and torn spots that wouldn’t even be able to keep the smallest animal warm; he almost felt bad, seeing how sick the woman appeared and being brought back to a body of 7 years that stood aside his mother, watching as she wilted before his young eyes. No. No he wouldn’t be reminded of that, he shouldn’t give the woman any attention, as she brought back ghosts that he’d rather not face in this moment. With little thought Gaston was going to continue to his quest to speak with Belle. 

Then he saw her face, she looked sad, and it didn’t take a genius to see that she pitied the old woman, noticed her instead of him. He sighed and rubbed his face before he got an idea, he smirked before moving and heading to the woman instead. She looked at him with cloudy eyes, he could now see that she did indeed have clothes under her cloak, obviously malnourished by how hollow parts seemed. Gaston moved and shrugged off his furs, trying to keep a neutral expression as the cold hit him, before going and wrapping the pelts over her shoulders. The woman looked confused before she shifted to bring the soft warmth closer to her shivering bones, she thanked him quietly and glanced at Belle. “You’re courting her?” She asks, and Gaston can’t stop himself from boosting. 

“I am, madam! I plan to make her my wife in a year's time, seeing she doesn’t ask sooner,” He’d said, full of confidence and smiled at where he assumes Belle had been watching, his face dropping once he noticed she’s no longer there. “Oh, don’t look so sad, Monsieur…” The woman had stood, the furs engulfing her almost entirely as he cloak did, she smiled and he almost felt uneasy at it. “Look, listen dear boy... I’ll tell you how to woo the girl…” Gaston normally didn’t take advice, at least not from those whom he thought was lower than himself, but, none of his advances had worked before and it had made him extremely frustrated; so he simply looked at her and waited, watched as she moved to shift the furs better and remove a scroll from her cloak. 

“Deep within the forest, is a ruined castle, and a ghastly beast. Bring the girl the rose that sets in the ruins and she will be yours until you shall die.” 

Gaston looked at the map and took it, nearly snatching the worn page, looked at the scroll before chewing his cheek, he went to ask her name before noticing she was gone. The town hero blinked a few times and looked around, huffing before moving to his continued path.

“Gaston! I, I didn’t know you were coming back today?” LeFou had been sitting at his dining room table, head in his arms and dressed in his nightgown as his skin was too hot to wear his normal clothes. Gaston smirked at him and placed some of the food he’d purchased in front of the other, ruffling his best friends hair before pulling a chair for himself. “And let you starve? How could I?” LeFou looked at him surprised before he smiled, moved to wipe his nose with his left sleeve before looking at the meats. “Thanks Gaston… really,” Gaston had just chuckled and put his feet on the table, leaning back in his chair as his friend inspected the goods. 

“LeFou,” He had begun as the little man examined a carrot to make sure there was no rott. “Do you know of a castle?” LeFou thought for a moment, picking a piece of dried dirt off. 

“Not exactly? I know of castles of course but… None nearby?” 

“Nothing of the forest?” 

“No Gaston, only thing there is game! You know that,” 

Lefou smiled happily as he glanced from a pile of basiel, remembering the seasons that he and Gaston had spent together, very fondly; and he felt curiosity bite at his ankles. “Why?” Gaston sighs and rubs his face, before tossing the rolled scrap of paper on the table, catching the chubby mans attention. “Where’d you get this?” He questioned, something the other almost never did regarding his friend, while he reached and opened the piece. 

The ill man felt a pang of… something, as he looked at the map, noticed a familiar path and something ate at the back of his mind, telling him that he’d walked these paths before as a lad; or… something like that. “Some crazy old woman gave it to me as thanks.” Gaston mumbled, and his friend almost didn’t catch it, lost in thought as he’d forgotten he’d even asked a question. “Fast hag, she was gone before I could ask,” 

LeFou looked up from the map, having glanced over details and shaking his head once, why couldn’t he figure it out? It was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t remember anything about this area, but the castle crudely drawn in the center seemed to give him some sense of unease, as if something horrible had happened there. “Well… Well Uh, I know it,” He said softly, jumping as Gaston suddenly jerked forward, looking at the other with a wicked grin. 

“You do now?” He asked, moving to rest his elbows on the table and hold up his chin. The short man instantly regretted his words, knowing that look and hating it, the very look Gaston got before a large hunt with tracks laid out like bread crumbs; he’d given him too much with such little words. “Well… Not personally but, yeah, kinda… It looks like the fields around Old Runner.” Old Runner had been the first (and last so far) buck that had ran from Gaston's shots and managed to almost slip away, LeFou actually being able to take the last aim and hitting the suffering animal straight through the ears. Its head currently hung above the fireplace in the very room, eyes closed as LeFou couldn’t stand the guilt of it staring at him while he cooked or cleaned. 

Gaston rubbed his chin, the grin still there and his eyebrows arching downwards, he was thinking. “I do remember an odd amount of hiding spots… Perhaps the castle is nearby.” The illman sighed and rolled it back up, setting the paper down and standing despite the nausea that occurred during the shift. “Well, Gaston, the storms pretty nasty. You should wait until it passes.” He said before trying to smile, moving to place some of the vegetable upon a shelf; grabbing a few herbs in place of the carrots and eggplant. “Since you’re here, I’ll make you something!” Gaston looked at LeFou sternly, noticed how he seemed to get smaller, holding the herbs to his chest. 

“Nonsense, sit.” He said, no commanded, and the other felt compelled to just do as he was told, Gaston took the herbs and set them back down, moving to find a match or two to start the fire. “Are… Are you going to cook?” LeFou asked quietly, his heart ramming in his chest at the realization, and how domestic it was, he couldn’t stop his heart from fluttering in his already raw stomach. “Of course! Why ever doubt me my friend?” 

“Oh no! I’d never do that Gaston! I… I’ve just never seen you cook is all,” 

“Well, then I suppose we shall eat together more often, perhaps until Belle becomes my wife.” 

It was backhanded, but LeFou couldn’t stop the smile and dreamly look he had at the thought, placing his hand in his cheek and sighing. If this was what happened while he was sick, he’d be happy to stay ill.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Lefou recovers from his illness, he finds that his friend had disappeared. After a stressful journey, the only thing that Lefou finds, is more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! I’m so sorry this took so long, after publishing the first chapter I wanted to wait until I got a few keudos before I published this second chapter! Don’t worry, chapter 3 is being worked on and within it, the beast will lurk!

LeFou woke happily for the first time in a week, his throat had finally stopped aching and his stomach had so blissfully been silent. He stretched and scratched at an itch before moving to pull off his nightgown, LeFou glanced out the window and smiled widely as he saw the first flowers of spring try to wiggle their way out of the winter snow. He loved the change, watching as nature fought itself while creating a beautiful masterpiece each season, colors disappearing and new life being brought onto their village even in the smallest forms. 

Finding that he had gotten lost in his thoughts, LeFou pulled himself from the window as he shook his head, chuckling slightly, before heading to the cabinet that stood tall as a tree across the room.

With little thought he pulled out a soft crimson vest and laid it out on his bed, alongside brown trousers, once changed and eating a small breakfast, still too cautious in case his stomach did flips yet again; he moved out to town to greet his few friends and run errands he hadn’t had the time or strength for.

LeFou walked with a small spring as he moved through the market, taking in the beautiful day with as much glee as a man who’d never seen it before. He was so glad to finally be rid of that illness, it had been increasingly lonely as Gaston's visit abruptly stopped, though he didn’t really have the heart to blame his friend. Gaston was the strongest man in their home, often out and about, doing what was needed when no one else could...It was selfish to want all that attention to himself. Gaston was an independent man, and he had many friends in the village, but… Surely Lefou was of enough importance to at least say a.. a daily hello and how do you do.

Speaking of such, he turned when he heard a Good Morning! From the baker, which he happily returned before reminding himself why he was wandering. As he finished up his errands, Lefou decided he may as well see if Gaston was at the tavern, if just to calm his racing heart. There wasn’t many places that Gaston stayed, one was home, another being Lefous home, and the third was the tavern. Where as Gaston wasn’t much a drinker, he did own the building and prided in it as much as anything else he’d been put in charge of. 

The only thing that did appear from entering the grand establishment, was the dark clutch of anxiety that wound around his heart and seemed to scratch at his lungs. “He… He hasn’t been by?” The Bartender shook his head, shrugging and glancing at the antlers around them, some having been shifted, as if to make more room. “The last time I saw him was church,” Lefou simply nodded and shakily left the tavern, feeling as though the walls would collapse and pierce him with its decorations, alright, there… There was an explanation. 

Had to be. 

Church was only a few days ago, he’d listened to the chime of the bells 

Though… strangely he hadn’t, Gaston was nowhere to be found. Even as he moved through town and checked the tavern desperately trying to hide the creeping anxiety as he checked the others house, and noticed it not only locked but, missing the man's praised and beloved black stallion Magnifique. LeFou felt as if his heart was going to beat out of his ribs, could already feel them crack and bruise as his breath came out in wheezes, leaning on the house he tried to calm himself. He’d had these a lot when he was young, these devil fits as his mother called them, the very air being stolen from his lungs and his heart escaping through his throat. This was the first time however, since he was small, after Gaston had pushed a then still innocent Lucas in the mud and helped a sobbing LeFou cradle his broken arm. The fits became less recent and he found himself often just mellowing out, acting as though Gaston had saved his very life and he owed nothing but the best to the man. 

Slowly, his wheezing stopped, and he was able to catch his breath. The short man stood and coughed into his hand, rubbing his eyes and biting his lip. Where could Gaston be? He wasn’t at the tavern, he wasn’t home and neither was his prized horse, surely he couldn’t be out hunting already as the man slept like a bear if left alone long enough and he most certainly wouldn’t had left LeFou behind! He became lost in thought for a moment before his whole body relaxed, of course, of course he was probably doing what he’d been doing since december… Chasing that silly girl like a lost pup in search of a tit to feed on. 

He sighed and slumped against the house, rubbing his whole face with a single smudge before shaking his head with bitter laughter. He’d been by Gaston's side most of his life, but no, some little brown haired, brown eyed, femme ignores him once and then ends up smacking him with her book after his advances and BLAM suddenly she’s the one he MUST marry! Grumbling and trying to swallow down his sour mood he pulled his vest slightly from his neck so that he could breathe a little better, before moving back into town. The mademoiselle lived on the complete other side of the village, as if they wanted to hide from the rest of them, Ah yes how good they are, can’t just move into town they have to be as far as possible-

Now you stop that. 

He scolded himself, he had nothing personal against the woman, she was young and probably didn’t know what she was getting into, but it was just so frustrating. LeFou couldn’t help himself from being bitter, he was only a man with needs, and when the solution was so close yet so untouchable… he found himself mad more often than not. 

“Oh!” 

Stumbling he gulped and tried to catch his footing, looking shocked at the body he’d knocked into so gracelessly. “I’m so sorry Monsieur.. Wait, I know you,” LeFou sighed and brushed off his clothes, looking at Belles extended hand and biting down the urge to slap it away, instead taking it with a hushed thank you. “You follow that brute around don’t you?” He was not a brute, he was the town's hero! A War Hero, how, how dare she- 

“I apologize if I upset you,” She starts and smiles almost sadly at him, he blinks a few times and can almost see what Gaston blubbers about; she is very easy on the eyes, though he’d rather not look regardless. “I just, well I never caught your name.” 

LeFou stiffens again and he rubs his arm where it's sore, offers his own smile though it's almost obviously forced. “No problem! If you could just tell me where Gaston has headed too, I’ll be out of your hair!” He says, instead of either his christian or nickname, watches as disappointment turns into confusion. “I wouldn’t know,” She moves and opens her basket, looks at him again cautiously before pulling out a blue book. “I was just going in town to return this, I’ve read it twice now and, it's just so wonderful.” Belles still talking but LeFou's barely listening, can’t with how sudden the anxiety and pounding returns, and he whispers his next phrase. 

“Pardon?” 

“...What do you mean you wouldn’t know?” Belle looks again disappointed before she shrugs and places her book back. “That creature has yet to bother me today, or any day recently now that I think about it… Oh dear! You look sickly!” He’s suddenly pale and nearly loses his balance, if not for the woman's quick thinking and action he’d be on the floor. LeFou can’t breathe, he can feel his whole body go cold as if he’d already passed, but he can’t be dead with how damn loud the beating is in his ears. He can faintly hear her talking to him, he just curls up on himself, brought back to a young age of taunting bullies and helplessness.

When he finally breaks free of the spell, there's something cold on his head and a large source of warmth is weighing down his stomach and chest. He blinks a few times and moves to sit up, confused when a hand touches his shoulder, Belle is sitting aside the cot where he had woken. “Papa said that you’ve been sick, Samuel, you should lay down more.” She explains quietly and LeFou feels numb as she uses his actual name, he knows it should bring him comfort or something but he just, felt nothing but her words processing. 

“You really do care for him, don’t you?” LeFou stays silent but nods, looking at the bedding that's currently covering his legs. He feels lost, the wet towel falls as he leans forward, and all he can hear is the soft humming of machinery around him. Suddenly there's a gentle force on his knuckle and he glances to see Belle holding it, he refuses to look at her, feels as though he should still hate her despite this constant comfort and good will. LeFou is a bitter man and he doesn’t want to admit that he could feel anything positive towards her, but he is thankful. “You know it's polite to at least try to make conversation.” She’s teasing him, he’s not too far gone to notice and he cracks a smile, it's small and starved but it sates the other for a moment. “Papa said you should rest,” 

LeFou finally does it. He looks at her, looks her dead in the eyes and notices with only a little smug nature how it catches her off guard. “I cannot rest.” He says, as if it's obvious and suddenly he’s out of the bed, thanking her once before moving and searching for his winter coat. “Samuel!” He’s out the door before she can stop him, going to town as he had walked in the war, his chin up and his face determined; despite how his knuckles became white with how tight his fists were and how he felt dizzy from the rattling in his own mind. He had a mission, he would need supplies, a weapon and somehow had to try visualize the map he’d only really looked upon for a few moments. 

Gaston needed him. No one else knew that he could be hurt, that he could be out there somewhere, too stubborn to seek help even if he could. LeFou loved Gaston, held him dear to his heart, and it was only this love that gave him the strength to saddle his sweet peach mare with a cart and ride off like a demon from hell itself. He only caught just a glimpse of Belles worried look as he ordered Juste to gallop, and only felt his chest tighten slightly as the large trees and shrubs surrounded and engulfed him. 

.0.

Days past as slow as his dying hope, Juste was about as tierd as he was, snorting and protesting as he apologized but pushed her nonetheless. “Just a little more,” He promised and stroked her mane, whispering prayers into her neck. LeFou stopped after another identical tree passed his line of sight, letting his poor mare relax and opening his pack to offer her a part of his rations, feeling miserable as he remembered how not too long ago, Gaston had brought him the very same. Oh just where had he gone too? What castle would be so important that he, just up and leave… 

Maybe Gaston wasn’t hurt, maybe he’d found a better life, a woman prettier and more obedient than Belle and… a man more handsome and independent then LeFou. He held onto Justes snout as he cried, the horse allowing it as she tried to press closer to her kind master. It felt hopeless, he was lost, LeFou was going to die living up to his nickname, a fool that ran into a forest with such little prompting. “What am I to do Juste?” He whimpered, rubbing the horse's nose with a soft touch as he tried to control his emotion. “We’re lost,” He says to her, speaking whatever comes to his mind to fill the horrid and terrifying silence, she huffs and presses her snout to his face, whinnies softly in a small attempt at comfort before he pulled back. LeFou moves to a tree, sits aside it and rubs his face free of the snot and tears, looks around and holds back another sob as he doesn’t recognize anything. 

He pulls his knees to his chest and tries to control himself, tries to think. The depressed man almost gave up, considered his position before just curling tighter as Juste moved closer, LeFou could hear the cart rattle; a soft huff and the man looked up, the kind eyes of his mare staring back. “Heh… At least we’re together, eh mon ami?” He said softly, reaching to pat the others snout before moving to stand up, tensing when he heard a low rustle. 

The shrubs around them seemed to shake with more than the blistering cold wind, LeFou tried to get a better look of his surroundings, before he hears it. 

In the distance, just close enough to make his heart race, is a howl. 

Juste nudges his chest back and LeFou doesn’t have to be told twice, he moves as fast as he never has, hopping onto her before drawing the bow he’d packed just in case. LeFou was no good with a sword, could barely swing an axe, and dreaded shooting down any animal with a musket; however, despite how lame it sounded, he’d always been clever in archery. His father had excelled and taught him its ways, the weapon was almost silent and he’d become accustomed to the quick reaction it required; LeFou looked around once more before placing his arrow back in his quiver with one hand and grabbing ahold of Justes’ reigns with its twin. 

“Go!” He barks, and she’s already galloping, both of their exhaustion is a leftover thought as another howl sounds before the beasts give chase. LeFou is new to this brave thing though, and he shrieks when he notices just how close the wolves had gotten in such little time, a whole pack of them following him and Juste. The one in front, snapping at her tail and snarling when LeFou makes the mistake of staring, has a horrible gash on his eye and it looks surprisingly fresh. The terrified man puts two and two and feels his chest swell, Gaston. Gaston wouldn’t have fled, he would’ve stayed and fought, probably taken at least two along with him as trophy; but, there was one small problem with that… He wasn’t Gaston. Juste takes a rather sharp turn and his cart almost knocks over, he isn’t as lucky, and hits the ground with a thud, scrambling to stand and start running after her. 

He’s stumbling as he readies his bow again, makes the mistake of looking back and seeing that one’s close enough to where they almost touch. LeFou shrieks again and fires, it hits the wolf's snout and it stumbles while trying to dislodge it, before falling in the dust that he’s left behind. He’s never ran so hard in his life, LeFou is wheezing and hiding, trying to fire arrows in between his unstoppable pauses; he dodges trees and fallen branches before lighting strikes and he’s forced to go the other direction. The wolves are still there, further away and he hides against something solid to catch his breath and realize he’d fired his last arrow by accident when the lightning caught him off guard. 

It hadn’t even been raining before, and he’d been in the forest for days, if anything it would’ve snowed! 

There was nothing to even indicate a storm!

LeFou looks from behind his spot, notices the pack leader sniffing the air a few feet away, and quickly ducks back down. He holds onto his chest and waits, tries to press himself against the stone as much as he can… Wait… Stone? LeFou looks at the wall he’s pressed against, hadn’t even noticed the gate that he’d ran into, and the beautiful garden in front of him had flown right over his head. He’s almost in awe before he remembers the danger that could very well been breathing down his neck, LeFou scrambled to try and get away from the threat, following the wall until he reached what he assumed would be safe. 

The stout man gulped and watched as the lead wolf had started moving away, probably sure they’d lost their meal… or off to find Juste. This made LeFou sick, his poor mare, probably spooked to hell, lost and with such beasts on her tail… He whispered a quiet prayer before he bit his cheek and backed away from the sides to stand by the gardens. Just like the map before had decorated, a large broken castle stood ominously in his gaze; black stone was corrupted by moss and nature, gargoyles snarled from their posts and the clouds made the whole scene all the darker. 

“...Golly…” He mumbled and approached the large double doors, eyes nervously glancing from the door knob to the wooden wall, he shook his head; he’d gone this far and lost more than what was ideal… He would take Gaston back, even if he had to drag him by his ear and argue the whole way. LeFou puffed up his chest and raised his knuckle, rasping on the door once, waited and impatiently pushed before his nerves could stop him. With a loud creak, the door he’d shoved opened almost begrudgingly, and it took all of LeFou's strength to get it to where he could stuff himself inside, staring at the inside of the castle in disbelief. 

It looked… abandoned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are Always Appreciated!


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